


Hopelessly Devoted To You

by wh0r3crux



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Mutual Pining, Pining, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29178447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wh0r3crux/pseuds/wh0r3crux
Summary: Life is full of firsts; first kiss, first date, first love.Hermione Granger was everything to Draco Malfoy, and she didn’t even know it. She held all of his firsts in the palm of her hand, and yet they had never been more than passing school rivals.But when the war is over and the dust settles, Draco finds himself with the very real possibility to finally be something—someone to her.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 7
Kudos: 53





	1. Firsts

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s a mood board to give you the vibe of this fic: https://pin.it/16RpfGA

The first time Draco Malfoy ever sets eyes on Hermione Granger is when she’s sat at the front of the Great Hall, the too big sorting hat propped on her head. He thinks her hair is atrocious and her teeth are much too big. But he notices that her eyes sparkle as she smiles and runs to join the Gryffindor table.

After he’s been sorted into his own house, he looks across the hall and catches another glimpse of her. She’s sat next to Potter and Weasley, but they pay her no mind. He sees her look around anxiously, trying to find someone to share her excitement with. In her search, she locks eyes with him. She gives a small hesitant smile, and he scowls, looking away quickly.

It’s then that he knows it doesn’t matter if her eyes sparkle; not when she’s a Gryffindor, and not when she’s a mudblood.

_

The first time he sees her cry is when he’s spewing a slur at her. She embarrassed him, and the word left his mouth before he could stop it. He barely knew what the word _mudblood_ meant, but he had heard his father say it enough times that he knew it was bad and that it would hurt her. 

As the tears welled in her eyes, he noticed that the sparkle in them disappeared. And it wasn’t until that sparkle was gone, that he realized how much he loved seeing it.

_

The first time her skin touches his is when her palm is colliding with his cheek. It’s not exactly the way he expected feeling her soft hands would go, but he takes what he can get.

Her hair is sparking from her pent up magic, and her face is flushed from anger. He’s so shocked by the outburst that he just stares at her for a moment. He notices that her hair isn’t as wild as it had been the years previous, and he finds this that he sort of misses the unruliness; she was always easy to spot in the crowded corridors just by her hair. He also notices that she’s no longer the awkward, lanky preteen that he remembers. No, she’s filled out since second year. Her hips are wider and her skin clearer, and _Merlin,_ she has boobs.

As he looks into her fiery eyes, he also sees that familiar sparkle.

_

The first time his heart stops is when he sees her at the Yule Ball. She’s wearing light makeup, and her hair has been tamed in a way that he both hates and loves at the same time. But that’s not what has him gasping for air. No, it’s the dress. She’s wearing a periwinkle dress, and she looks fucking _magnificent._

The dress clings to her in all the right places, and suddenly he finds that he can’t breathe. He’s too hot in his dress robes, and his collar feels like it’s choking the life out of him. Pansy’s pulling on his arm now, complaining that she wants to go inside and dance; but he doesn’t hear her. All of his senses are screaming _Granger._

She approaches Victor Krum, taking his arm as he leads them inside, and Draco catches a glimpse at the sparkle in her eye. He finally lets Pansy drag him inside, if only so that he can continue watching her.

As the night drags on, and he makes his way back to the Slytherin common room, all he can think about is how periwinkle is his new favorite color.

_

The first time Draco has prefect patrols with her, he thinks he’s going to be sick. He’s spent the past five years successfully limiting their time together, and now he has to spend the next two hours in her immediate proximity. 

He paints the perfect air of indifference of course, but internally he’s panicking. All he can think about is how her skirt seems shorter, her oxford a little tighter, and how her perfume is making him dizzy. She smells like lavender and citrus, and it’s the most intoxicating scent he’s ever had the pleasure of smelling. 

They walk in uncomfortable silence for most of the patrol, other than the occasional snarky insult he throws out to ensure nothing seems amiss. His breath catches when she walks ahead of him and he catches a glance of her bare legs. Her hair is bouncing on her shoulders, in time with the sway of her hips, and he thinks he might faint from how badly he wants to run his fingers through it. He bets it feels like silk.

They leave each other at the end of the night with nothing more than an exchange of nods, and he walks through the empty corridors inhaling the lingering scent of her perfume.

_

For the first time in six years, he avoids her at all costs. The idea of seeing her face when he has that _thing_ on his arm is enough to send him running to the nearest toilet to empty his stomach. He always knew he couldn’t have her, but now— now he knows he’ll never allow himself to to even entertain the fantasy of her lips on his own.

Anytime he even _thinks_ he smells her perfume, he throws up his occlumency walls so fast his head spins. Snape has been keeping up his occlumecy lessons ever since the term began, and he’s had to be reminded more than once of the risks of his silly adoration.

Every time he sees her reading in the library, or taking notes in class, his left arm begins to itch and he’s forced to remember himself. Remember who he is—what he is.

_

The first time he sees her bleed is on his drawing room floor. 

His aunt has just spent the last ten minutes throwing the cruciatus curse at her, and now she’s hunched over, carving into Granger’s arm with a cursed blade. His occlumency walls are shaking and his legs are stiff from the sticking charm his mother placed on him. One look at his face and she knew who the girl writhing on their floor was to him. 

He thinks he’s going to be sick. The sounds of her screams are tearing into his soul, and all he wants to do is throw himself in front of her; to protect her. He can see her blood soak into the carpet, and it’s then that he sees the evidence of what he always suspected was true— it was red, not brown; not muddy.

_

The final battle was a blur. He didn’t see her at all up until the room of requirement, and even then he spent most of his time trying not to fall into the flames below him.

No, the first time he really sees her is when his parents call for him to join them. As he crosses the sea of people, his eyes fall on her, and it’s the first time he’s ever seen her give him a pure look of disappointment.

_

The first time he sees her after the final battle is at his trial. Potter had just testified on his behalf and she approached the podium next. He was standing in the metal cage, leaning back against the bars when he caught a familiar scent— _Lavender and citrus._

His eyes snapped open and that’s when he saw her; donned in a pencil skirt, silk blouse, and sensible heels. His heart begins to race and he breaks out in a cold sweat because _no,_ she can’t see him like this. He’s dirty, and beaten, and no doubt looks as lifeless as the dementors tried to make him. He tries to throw up his occlumency walls but the manacles on his wrists are suppressing his magic.

She’s telling the Wizengamot things like _“Refused to identify us”,_ and _“Lowered his wand”,_ and _“Under duress”._ He barely hears her though; all he can seem to focus on is the way her hair is pulled back into a low chignon and the way her fingers are anxiously tapping on the podium. She speaks for what feels like hours, and when she’s done she turns, looking at him at him for the first time. Their eyes lock and she gives a small hesitant smile—reminiscent of the day they were sorted—and this time he nods in return.

She exits the room, leaving behind the lingering scent of her perfume.

_

The first time he sees her since his trial, he’s walking through the atrium of the Ministry. He’s just gotten finished with his final probation hearing. His one year of house arrest just over, and he was officially a free man. 

As he walks through the crowded atrium, he catches a glimpse of brown curls and his heart stops. She’s exiting a floo, clutching a stack of paperwork in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Her hair is tied back in a high ponytail and she’s wearing glasses. Her gaze is set on the file in her hand as she walks, nearly trampling over some poor old women in the process. She quickly looks up from the file, and that’s when their eyes meet.

She stops in her tracks and he does the same. They stare at each other for a minute before she smiles, giving him a small wave. He wasn’t prepared for this, so it takes him a moment to remember that he has arms that move. Raising a hand, he returns her wave; a small smile playing on his lips. 

And that’s where she leaves him— standing in the middle of the atrium, thinking about the sparkle he saw in her eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you to Actanonverba7 for being my beta on this fic! I don’t know what I’d do without her commentary and continuous effort to reign in all of my commas.

Three months shouldn’t feel like a long time. Considering Draco just spent the last twelve months sitting in the manor alone, three months should feel like nothing. But whereas Draco spent the past year trying to  _ forget  _ the look of disappointment on Hermione’s face during the final battle, now all he can do is think of the smile she gave him in the Ministry atrium.

It’s been three months since their brief encounter, and he has not seen her since. It’s not that he doesn’t  _ want  _ to see her, because he does. No, it’s just that he can’t come up with any believable excuse to run into her. That is, until Pansy invites him over for tea.

“You know,” Pansy starts, taking a careful sip of her tea “Granger was assigned to the estate to take care of my father’s quarters.”

Draco, who has just taken an ill timed drink of his tea, chokes. “I’m sorry,  _ what?”  _ He coughs, trying to clean up the tea that’s now dripping down his chin.

Pansy hands him a napkin, tutting, “Oh, do calm down Draco. I know you have better manners than this.”

He accepts the napkin with a scowl, cleaning his face of the beverage he choked out. “What do you mean Granger was assigned to the estate?”

“Exactly that,” Pansy said, rolling her eyes. “really, I thought you had better listening skills than this.”

“You know what I mean Pansy.” He says, seething, “Stop being difficult.” 

“Oh okay,  _ fine. _ ” Pansy takes another sip of her tea before setting the cup down on the coffee table. “Apparently, Granger has been working as a curse breaker for Gringotts, and when the request went through for my father’s quarters to be cleansed, she was the one assigned to the case.”

Draco paused, seemingly lost in thought at this new information. “But that doesn’t make sense. I saw Granger at the Ministry a few months ago, and it looked like she worked there.”

“Well from what I’ve gathered, certain curse breakers have to report to the Ministry as well as Gringotts if they’re working on cases pertaining to Death Eaters.”

Well, that makes sense. Ever since the Battle of Hogwarts, the Ministry has been seizing the homes of all convicted Death Eaters in an attempt to cleanse any cursed objects they might have in their possession. Malfoy Manor had been filled with curse breakers for the better part of the last year, and was just deemed fully cleansed a week ago.

“So you’re telling me you’re going to have  _ Granger,  _ in your home, for the foreseeable future? How are you not fuming over this?”

“Oh I was, believe me. But after the first month or two, she started to grow on me..” Pansy paused, then with a smirk, “Like a tumor.”

Draco spit out his tea yet again. “After the first  _ month or two?!  _ She’s already started?!”

Pansy rolled her eyes, picking up her teacup to take a sip. “Draco if you do not learn to hold your tea, I’m going to tell your mother that she needs to put you back in those etiquette classes.”

“Don’t change the subject.” He scowled, fumbling for another napkin to clean up the mess that was covering the coffee table.

Pansy sighed, “Okay, yes, she began working on the estate in May.”

“And you’ve just thought to bring it up now?”

She’s shot him a glare, “Well it’s not like I could tell you when it first happened. You were still on house arrest and not allowed visitors.”

“Was your owl on vacation?” He mumbled under his breath.

Pansy swatted him on the back of the head, causing him to clank his teeth on the teacup he was currently trying to drink from, spilling the beverage yet again.

“Would you have preferred to know while you were locked away in your home? When you could do nothing with the information other than brood?”

Draco made some sort of unintelligible comment under his breath, clearly knowing that Pansy was right.

“Okay fine, you have a point. But that was months ago, and I’ve seen you no less than twice a week since then. Why are you just barely bringing it up now?.”

“Yes, well, it must’ve slipped my mind.”

Well,  _ that _ was a lie if he ever heard one. Nothing slips Pansy's mind; every move she made was carefully calculated and thought out. She was a Slytherin through and through.

Before he could push it further, there was a noise from down the hall; as if someone had dropped something.

“Sorry!” 

Draco whipped his head in the direction the voice came from, knowing exactly who that voice belonged to. His eyes bulged in recognition, and his hands began to tremble in his lap.

“Pansy...” He said carefully, slowly turning to look at her.

Pansy was innocently looking at the sleeve of her blouse as if nothing were amiss. “Hmm?”

Before he could decide on a course of action—chastise Pansy or make a run for the floo—Hermione walked into the drawing-room where they were seated. 

As Draco turned to look at her, his heart began beating out of his chest.  _ Merlin, _ she looked beautiful; Her hair was piled into a bun atop her head, and she was wearing forest green trousers and a cream blouse. She had a rosy flush to her cheeks as if she had just been doing something that had her worked up. She was clutching a notebook in her hand and was chewing on the top of a quill, and all he could think was that she looked eerily reminiscent of her younger self at Hogwarts; When he would try to steal glances at her in the library.

Back at school, Draco would catch her chewing on sugar quills in the library. She would be sitting at a table, completely captivated by whatever book she was reading, and would mindlessly suck on the candy—like it was melting in her grasp. She’d lick the sides, swirl her tongue around the tip; She’d make the most  _ obscene  _ noises anytime she sucked—  _ Oh Gods, he was hard.  _ He was so caught up in the inappropriate memory that he now had a fucking hard-on.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat on the couch, praying to Merlin that no one would notice the bulge in his trousers. 

Looking up from her notebook, Hermione stopped walking, taking notice of the extra person in the room—The person she wasn’t expecting to see. 

She quickly removed the quill from her mouth and shut the notebook. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company.” She said to Pansy, obviously embarrassed about interrupting their conversation.

“No need to be sorry Granger,” Pansy said with a smirk, “it’s just Draco.”

Draco threw up his Occlumency walls before he could be caught blushing at her presence. The last thing he needed was for her to notice how flushed he was at the sight of her chewing on a quill.

Hermione stood silent for a moment—clearly taken aback by the unexpected situation she found herself in—before gathering her wits and offering a small, friendly smile. “Malfoy,”

Thrown off guard by her display of politeness, he mustered up the most neutral drawl he could manage, glancing at her and saying “Granger,” with a nod in her direction.

The three of them sat in uncomfortable silence for what felt like hours—while Hermione not so subtly stared at Draco and Draco stared at a spot on the rug as if it were the most interesting thing in the world—before Pansy cleared her throat and finally spoke. “So what was that noise? Did you drop something?”

Shaking her head slightly, as if she was putting her thoughts back in order, Hermione responded, “Oh, right. Yes, a book bit me.” She held up her hand to show evidence of a small bite mark on her hand, in the space between her thumb and index finger. “It gave me a fright is all, and I accidentally dropped it.”

“Oh, well Draco is great with healing spells. Aren’t you Draco?” Pansy gave him a sly smirk, “Why don’t you go fix Granger’s hand?”

Draco shot Pansy a glare before seething out, “I’m sure Granger is plenty capable of fixing her own hand.”

He shifted in his seat again; the problem in his trousers growing more uncomfortable by the minute. The last thing he needed was Pansy forcing him to stand up, putting himself on full display. Merlin, he felt like a horny sixteen year old all over again.

“He’s right, I know some healing—“ Hermione tried to cut in.

Pansy cut her off, “Oh don’t be rude Draco,” Pansy rolled her eyes and cocked her head in Hermione’s direction. “go fix the lady’s hand.”

Pansy and Draco continued to sit there staring at each other, willing the other to cave.

The sight must’ve made Hermione uncomfortable because she began to fidget slightly from where she stood in the doorway. “Really, it’s fine Pansy. He’s right, I’m capable of healing my own hand.” 

She looked back and forth between the two, trying to decipher the silent conversation they seemed to be having. “Well, I should really be getting back to work.” She said while awkwardly backing out of the room. “It was nice to see you Malfoy. She gave a nod in his direction before turning to Pansy, “I’ll see you later Pans.”

Draco and Pansy continued to glare at one another, barely noticing that Hermione had left the room.

“What was that?” Draco spat.

“What was what?” Pansy said, painting the perfect picture of ignorance.

“ _ Draco is great with healing spells!”  _ He mocked, “What the fuck are you playing at?”

“I was just trying to give you the opportunity to be gentlemanly.” Pansy reached for her tea that was now cold, waving her wand over the cup to reheat it. “You failed miserably by the way.”

Draco stood, brushing off his pants and grabbing his robes from where they were placed on the back on the couch, holding them strategically in front of his crotch. “Yes, well I wasn’t exactly expecting to see Granger in your home, so thank you for that.” 

“You’re not leaving, are you? We haven’t even had lunch yet!”

Draco walked over to the floo, grabbing a handful of powder before turning back to look at Pansy. “I forgot I have some business to tend to.”

The “business” Draco needed to tend to was really just giving himself a good wank in the shower. But Pansy didn’t need to know that. From the moment Hermione walked into the room, with her nose buried in a notebook and her mouth wrapped around a quill, all he could think about was how much he wished he could see her mouth wrapped around  _ something else.  _

“Well are you still coming over next week?”

“Is she going to be here?”

Pansy smirked, “I would assume so, yes.”

Draco thought for a moment before nodding in response, “Then yes, I’ll be here.”

With that, he threw the powder into the floo and stepped in. The last thing he saw before getting swept away in the green flames was the knowing smirk on Pansy’s face.

* * *

For the next couple of days, Draco could do nothing but think about his brief encounter with Hermione. This was nothing new of course, considering he’s spent the past six years filling his thoughts with her. But this was different—This was  _ new.  _ A new memory to analyze and pour over. 

She smiled at him. Granted, it was just a polite smile, and probably didn’t have a deeper meaning, but it was a smile nonetheless. It was as if she wasn’t completely put off by his being there. He would take that small, polite smile, and tuck it away in his mental box filled with everything else she did.

Draco was currently walking into The Leaky Cauldron to meet with Theo and Blaise. He hadn’t seen much of them since his house arrest ended, so when Theo owled him the day before, asking if he wanted to grab a pint, he jumped at the chance to see his friends.

He found them sitting in a booth that was tucked into a dark corner of the pub. Blaise must have been talking about one of his latest conspiracy theories, because he was waving his hands around in wild gestures, and Theo was looking at him like he had just grown a second head.

“I’m telling you mate, Dumbledore was  _ gay!”  _

“There’s no way! Everyone knows him and McGonagall had been shacking up for years!”

“No, she was just his beard!”

“What does that even  _ mean?!  _ He already had a bloody beard! That thing was fucking three feet long!”

Draco laughed as he approached the table, “He means McGonagall was just a cover up for whatever gay romance he was taking part in.” He slid into the booth next to Theo, waving his hand to get the waitress’s attention.

“See!” Blaise gestured to Draco, “He bloody gets it!”

“Oh, don’t misinterpret my understanding of terminology for my support of your wild theories.” Draco said after ordering a firewhiskey, “Dumbledore was definitely not gay.”

Blaise pouted in his seat.

“You know,” Theo started, stroking his chin as he was thinking. “I always got the impression he was more the asexual type.”

Theo and Blaise continued their debate while Draco listened from the sidelines. Merlin, he missed this. A year of no contact with his friends really took a toll on him, and he was happy to just get back to his normal every day.. 

“So,” Theo said, taking a hefty drink of his firewhiskey, “Pansy said she saw you the other day.”

“Yes, we had tea.” Draco said carefully, obviously knowing where this was going.

“She also mentioned you had a run in with a certain Gryffindor.” 

Draco groaned. The last thing he needed was Pansy running her mouth to Theo and Blaise. Blaise was a huge gossip, and Theo just loved taking the piss out of Draco whenever he got the chance.

“I might have.” 

Blaise and Theo shared a conspiratorial look.

“Well, I was at the Ministry yesterday meeting with Ginny for lunch, and she mentioned that Potter and Weasley always come to The Leaky on Fridays after work.” Blaise said, leaning back in his seat with a look on his face as if he was watching something slowly play out.

“Okay, and? Why do I give a shit about Potter and Weasley?”

“Oh, you don’t. But she  _ also  _ mentioned that Granger sometimes joins them.”

There it was—That was the reason Theo and Blaise just  _ happened  _ to both be free on a Friday night. Blaise and Ginny usually reserved Fridays for their date nights, and it was almost impossible to get him to agree to skip out on one. Draco should’ve been suspicious the second Blaise agreed to come out with them.

Just then, the bell above the door chimed and Draco heard a familiar laugh. He turned around to see Potter, Weasley, and Granger all walk into The Leaky.

Before he could make a run to the loo, Blaise was waving his hand in the air. “Granger! Over here!”

Draco saw her say something to Potter and Weasley before the two went off to grab a table and she walked over to where he and his friends were seated.

“Blaise, hi, it’s good to see you.” She leaned down, giving Blaise a quick hug before straightening back up and surveying the other occupants of the table.

“Nott,” She nodded at Theo before turning her gaze onto Draco. “Malfoy, nice to see you again.”

Draco was unprepared for the interaction, so he just stared at her for a moment before tightening his lips and offering a curt nod in response.

“Oh, did you see each other recently?” Asked Theo, clearly taking joy in the uncomfortable situation Draco found himself in.

“Oh, yes,” Hermione turned her attention back to Theo, nodding. “Malfoy was at Pansy’s on Wednesday while I was working.”

“Huh, what a small world.” 

Hermione shifted where she stood, “Uh yeah, I guess.” 

Draco continued to stare at his drink, not wanting to risk being dragged into the awkward small talk his friends were trying to have.

“So what are you doing here?” Blaise asked, but it was obvious he already knew the answer; he was dating her best friend after all.

“Oh, Harry and Ron are treating me for my birthday! Well, my birthday is actually on Sunday, but I’ll be at a conference in Paris all weekend, so we thought we’d celebrate tonight before I leave.”

“Oh, that was nice of them.” Blaise said, before turning his eyes onto Draco, “Isn’t that nice Draco?”

Draco’s eyes never left the glass in front of him, but he mumbled “Mhm, very nice.”

Hermione looked back and forth between the three Slytherins, obviously sensing some sort of odd tension between them.

“Well, we won’t hold you any longer.” Blaise said, finally deciding to end the conversation. “I’ll see you next week for dinner at Gin’s?”

Hermione nodded in response, offering a smile at Blaise. “Definitely, I’m looking forward to it.”

“Well happy birthday.”

“Happy birthday, Granger” Theo chimed in with a grin.

All eyes landed on Draco, waiting for him to offer his own well-wishes.

Slowly dragging his gaze upwards, Draco locked eyes with Hermione. He could feel his palms sweating and his heart beating erratically. 

“Happy birthday.” He finally said softly.

Hermione stared at him for a moment before smiling, “Thanks Malfoy.” She then turned away and made her way back to where her friends were seated.

He watched her until she sat down, then whipped his head back to glare at his two friends. “I fucking hate both of you.” 

He then stood, leaving the table and making his way to the loo. When he closed the door behind him, he sagged against it, letting out a much needed breath.

Draco walked over to the sink, turning on the water and splashing his face with it. Looking into the mirror, he saw that his face was flushed bright pink. 

He let out a sigh, “I am so fucked.”


End file.
